


No Place Like Here

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Table Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik does some night wandering and some night thinking. Bumping into Charles slightly derails both of these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Place Like Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arcapelago (arcanewinter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanewinter/gifts).
  * Inspired by [As Good as Anywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/248747) by [arcapelago (arcanewinter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanewinter/pseuds/arcapelago). 



Erik still wasn’t used to living in the mansion.

It was just so _big_. You could stand in a room with the door open and have no idea if the other inhabitants were two rooms away or twenty. Someone could break in and steal everything important and you wouldn’t know because you were on the other side of the house. For someone who was used to surviving in single rooms or less, it was just ... overwhelming.

Erik did not like to be overwhelmed.

He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up here. To live every day in this strange, huge place. You could probably go for days without seeing another person, if you wanted to. 

Of course, if you weren’t running a training ground for mutants, doubtless there would be servants in the place. People paid to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t vanish off the face of the world. Raven and Charles had both casually mentioned servants that had inhabited this place with them all that time ago. There had been a skeleton staff of servants when they had arrived, only Charles had sent them away.

“I hardly think we want too many people around for this,” he’d said, so casually, as though he was in charge of people’s lives every day of his life and didn’t worry at all about what it might mean.

Erik had been in charge of lives too, he supposed. But not in quite the same way.

When he couldn’t sleep – or didn’t want to sleep – he wandered the halls, trying to get a real feel of the place. He’d always been used to knowing his territory, being utterly aware of where he was and everything around him. It wasn’t the same here. How could anybody possibly be aware of everything around them when there were so many rooms? He could try and attune his power to every piece of metal in the place but there was so much that it was a meaningless jumble. No, the mansion was an unknown quantity and much as he hated to admit it, that bothered him. 

Still, he was getting better at finding his way around without getting lost. He could find the kitchen from everywhere in the mansion whenever he got hungry and fancied a snack – or something else. Charles kept a well-stocked kitchen, it had probably always been that way. He’d never known what it was like to be hungry. Had never had to rummage in a bin to try and make it through another day ...

Charles had looked so stricken when he’d told him that story in one of the hotels. Looked as though he _understood_ , even though he’d never felt a day’s hunger in his life. Erik had found it annoying, told Charles that just because he could read Erik’s mind, it didn’t mean he _understood_. Charles had put his hand on his arm, apologised softly, smiled that smile of his that made a part of Erik react in a way that he wasn’t used to ...

That had been the first time that they had kissed. The first time that they’d had sex in one of those small, single beds, hanging onto each other for dear life, both trying not to make too much noise in case somebody heard them, Charles staring down at him with those huge blue eyes, gasping for breath ...

 _“I’ve never done that with a man before.”_ he’d confessed afterwards and something about that simple confession had made Erik’s stomach dip in a way that he wasn’t entirely sure he liked. It was hardly the first time that he had had sex, not even with a man. But there was something different about Charles. Something Erik wasn’t sure that he could explain, not even to himself. It wasn’t that Charles was good looking (although he was), it wasn’t that Charles was intriguing (although he was), it wasn’t that Charles was powerful (although he certainly was.) It was something about all three of those things and something more that Erik didn’t think he’d yet managed to understand.

He changed direction, deciding to head to the kitchen by a different route to see if it would confuse him at all. It didn’t, of course. He knew the corridors by now. The children – he supposed he shouldn’t think of them as that but somehow, the appellation had stuck – had been excited by the mansion. Sean had asked hopefully if there were any secret passages and Charles had laughed and said they’d have to find them on their own. Erik still hadn’t been able to get out of him if that was a joke or not. He kept reaching out with his power but even his skills didn’t work quite like that. Maybe if he stayed a while longer ...

He walked into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights. He didn’t need the lights to make his way around the rooms that he knew. He helped himself to a glass of wine, knowing that Charles wouldn’t care. He didn’t exactly _want_ the wine and yet he liked the act of drinking it. There was something ... interesting about drinking in this place. A declaration that perhaps, just perhaps, he didn’t always have to be on high alert, always ready, always prepared. That he could relax.

He frowned at the glass in his hand. It wasn’t a safe way to think. This couldn’t last forever. They would find Shaw, he would kill Shaw and then ... then.

It was actually quite hard to think about the _then_. He guessed Charles would tell him that it was because he was making the wrong choice, that killing Shaw would do nothing for him. Which just proved that Charles did _not_ understand everything that he experienced in a person’s mind, didn’t it?

Could he stay here? Charles was talking about setting up a school, helping others of their kind and that was clearly a good idea, a wonderful one. Could he have a place in that? Charles clearly believed it but then Charles was ... Charles. He seemed to believe in everybody, believed that everything would be fine in a way that Erik couldn’t accept was the truth.

But then, maybe he ought to stay because Charles _was_ so naive. Maybe he needed someone to temper that casual belief that everything would be just fine. Maybe he needed someone like Erik.

That was a strange thought. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. He pushed the thought away and moved over to the fridge, opening it and staring at the contents, contemplating a snack of some sort. Charles had told them that they could help themselves at any time – something else that Erik found strange. The idea that you could just reach into a fridge or a cupboard and take anything you wanted without it being missed ... people could live like this.

 _He_ could live like this.

He felt a sudden touch in his mind, a flick of Charles’s power, a non-verbal _Hello_. He stood up and there was Charles, smiling at him.

“Can’t sleep, my friend?”

Erik stared at him for a moment, wondering how much of his mind Charles had read, how much he was reading now. Charles had promised to stay out but Erik wasn’t sure how that worked. Charles picked up on things, of course he did. Erik might promise not to use his own power but he could still feel all the metal around him, even if he didn’t choose to manipulate it.

Still. Best to behave as though Charles was reading nothing.

“Sometimes, I don’t want to. You?”

Charles pulled a face.

“Not ready to lie down, I suppose.”

He leaned against the fridge door, eyes flicking up and down Erik’s body in a way that Erik was beginning to recognise and enjoy. Charles had made no secret of the fact that he thought Erik had an extremely attractive body. He didn’t seem to mind the scars – in fact, he seemed to enjoy them.

“Or maybe,” Charles said softly. “I came to find you.”

Erik laughed, not in disbelief but with a little touch of genuine joy. The idea that Charles would come and look for him, that Charles would _want_ to do that ...

He leaned down slightly to kiss Charles’s parted lips and Charles reacted immediately, eagerly. He slid his hand into Erik’s hair, his fingers pressing against Erik’s scalp in a way that made Erik’s whole body tingle. He moved away from the fridge, closing the door with a flick of his power as he pulled Charles close, then pushed him back against the refrigerator to press against him, to feel all of that body against his. Charles was beautiful, so amazingly beautiful. There was something about kissing him, something about running his hands over Charles’s body ...

“Is anyone else awake?” he asked because the last thing he wanted was to be interrupted while he was doing everything that he wanted to do.

Charles lifted his hand to his temple. Not for the first time, Erik wondered how necessary that little gesture was. Did Charles do it to make others forget he could work without it? Or did it do something for Charles in some way, ground him, perhaps? He had asked but Charles had brushed it off almost casually and Erik hadn’t asked again.

“No one,” Charles murmured. 

“Stay here,” Erik whispered and moved away. He knew where everything was in this kitchen now. It was easy to move through the dark, easy to find the bottle that he needed. He opened it and heard Charles make a delicious noise, a groan of pure anticipation. Charles always got so excited, it was ... delightful. He pressed against Charles’s back, leaning down to kiss the side of his neck as he began to tug at Charles’s trousers. He hadn’t exactly planned to have sex right here but Charles’s reactions were just too tempting. He stroked his fingers over Charles’s erection, smiled at the way Charles’s body tensed.

“Ready?” he whispered and knew the answer even before Charles spoke, just from the way that Charles tried to lean up, catch his lips again for another kiss.

_Yes. Yes, now._

Erik tried to be gentle. He always tried to be gentle with Charles at first because he knew that soon, the gentleness would fade and they would be rough and desperate for each other, unable to control what they wanted, what they _needed_. He could hear Charles trying to muffle his moans as Erik slid his fingers inside him, felt Charles flexing and moving and wanting and God, it was already almost too much, he _wanted_ ...

He used his powers to unfasten his own trousers, then removed his fingers from Charles with reluctance. Instead of continuing, he turned Charles towards him and was rewarded with eager touches, eager kisses, Charles pressing against him, into him and Erik didn’t need to see to be able to map out every part of the body that he was becoming so used to touching.

He half-pushed Charles over to the table, pressing against him for a moment, letting Charles feel just how much he wanted him.

“Table,” he ordered as he nuzzled Charles’s jaw. “On the table.”

Charles obeyed, shivering slightly. Erik wondered what he was thinking. Did the darkness disorient him, bother him? Or did he feel safe because it was his kitchen, because it was his world? 

Did he feel safe because he knew that he could trust Erik not to hurt him?

He parted Charles’s legs, entering him with the delicate care that he could still manage because he was still in control. No matter how much he wanted this, he was still in control. Charles was groaning and gasping and Erik stilled himself, stroking his fingers down Charles’s body to remind him that everything was all right, that he wouldn’t do anything Charles didn’t want, would do anything Charles asked ...

Charles’s legs tightened around his waist, needy, encouraging. Erik obeyed the unspoken command, pushing further in, trying to hold back his own groans.

 _Please Erik. All of it_.

Charles’s mental voice was high, desperate in a way that Erik had never heard him sound when he spoke aloud. He leaned over Charles to support himself, to grip at Charles’s shoulders as he began to thrust, slow and steady. Charles clutched at him, holding on tight, so tight and God, it was good, it was better than good, it was Charles and Charles was so beautiful, so fascinating, so tempting and this, what they had between them, he couldn’t imagine feeling it anywhere else, feeling anything else like this, he wanted it always and maybe, maybe he could have it, maybe ...

“Read my mind,” he whispered against Charles’s ear, licking the sweat from the skin “Read it.”

He could feel when Charles entered his mind, even though Charles wasn’t trying to affect him. It was a strange sensation, like a warm hand curling around his brain in a pleasant way. He knew Charles had to be feeling his pleasure, his own needs and desires and wants and it was frightening but he wanted it, he wanted to open himself up to it because he wanted Charles to _know_ , he wanted Charles to see that he hoped the way he was sure that Charles did, that he was open to this new, flourishing world ...

Charles arched beneath him and Erik had to cover his mouth to muffle the cry that he gave (although would any one hear it down here? Perhaps it was a strange force of habit, to silence even when silence was not required.) He could still feel Charles in his mind, throbbing there as his body squirmed and it wasn’t something that Erik had ever imagined but he liked it, he _liked_ it ...

He was still aching for more, his body burning with want, cock still hard. But Charles was limp beneath him now and Erik knew from experience (oh, such wonderful experience) that Charles rapidly became over stimulated after orgasm. He had tried to hide it but it made him cringe and Erik couldn’t bear that. 

“Wait,” Charles whispered, gripping him again. “Don’t.”

Erik tried to kiss him and missed, kissing Charles’s chin before he found his lover’s lips.

“You won’t like it if I keep going,” he reminded gently. Charles kissed him back, then pulled away.

“Let me,” he said and pressed Erik’s fingers to his temple gently. Erik swallowed, understanding. He felt a flicker of uncertainty. He knew what Charles wanted, it was clear and he wasn’t sure, he wasn’t ... he shouldn’t be afraid, he trusted Charles, he trusted him absolutely and yet ... and yet ...

“Let me, please.” It wasn’t a question, it was a request and Erik could refuse, he knew he could and if he did, Charles would probably never ask again. 

But he didn’t refuse. He stayed silent. And after a moment, he felt that warm hand again, the touch inside him, Charles dipping deep inside his mind, past memory, past thought, past everything and his body suddenly throbbed with something, something hot and strong and _wonderful_ , he’d never felt anything like this before and Charles was in his head and he was in Charles and fuck, fuck, fuck, _yes_.

He didn’t know how long it lasted. It seemed to go on forever, a long, glorious point in time where all there was was pleasure. And then it was over and he was slumped over Charles, Charles still clinging to him, his head against Charles’s neck, trying to get his breath back. He could hear Charles doing the same, could feel their chests rising and falling against each other and wondered dizzily how he would manage without this, how he could survive ...

 _Maybe I don’t have to_.

The thought was so clear that it could almost have been a message from Charles but Erik knew it wasn’t. It was his own want, his own need. 

“You know, that’s a dangerous weapon you have,” he murmured because he didn’t want to say anything about what was in his head, not now. Not yet. Afterwards.

“I suppose there are worse ways to go,” Charles said. He sounded drowsy, content. Erik had done that. Erik had made that happen.

He helped Charles sit up and couldn’t help smiling when Charles leaned against him. He loved seeing Charles boneless and dreamy. Charles was always in control, so confident, so absolutely sure of himself. It was nice to just sometimes be able to rock that certainty, to make Charles slightly different than he was in the light.

“Bedtime?” he asked.

“Just help me find my clothes first,” Charles said and there he was again, the Charles that was always so sure of himself. Erik swatted him gently in the darkness and enjoyed Charles’s soft laugh. Then he helped him find his clothes and even helped him dress, stroking his hands over Charles’s hips until it was Charles’s turn to swat him.

“You’ll come to bed with me, won’t you?” Charles asked.

Erik thought about protesting. Thought about how one of the children might see him leaving Charles’s room, that Moira might catch them, that anybody might catch them. He thought about how dangerous it might be to get used to being close to Charles. About how it would be to get used to waking up next to Charles when they were on Charles’s territory, in Charles’s home. How it might be dangerous for both of them.

How maybe he didn’t care about that.

“Why not?” he said and took Charles's hand.


End file.
